The CEO's Contracted Little Wife

The CEO's Contracted Little Wife

By:  pinkaureliaxz  Ongoing
Language: English
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"Seeing you in this black little dress is fucking up every ounce of my self-control, Ashlynn. So get ready to be treated like the sexy, sultry woman that you are, but try not to ruin those expensive manicures I paid for while you dig hard into my skin." _________________________ Julian Kings was nothing short of a dangerously good-looking, egoistical asshole with perpetual skirt-chasing habits. He was certainly the last person on earth Ashlynn Holmes would like to get involved with, but the vows she had recited at the altar for the contract marriage to him proved otherwise. The number one rule was that under no circumstances should any of them fall in love with the other. And they didn't. Or so it seemed... What would happen when they realize they needed each other in ways they'd never admit to and felt way more for each other than the always-existing sexual tension and the strong urge to take off each other's clothes.

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21 Chapters
01.Reality Check
Ashlynn’s POV:Men. Will. Fuck. Anything.And I’m not saying that just because my step-uncle’s in jail with bestiality charges for raping his neigbour’s dog, repeatedly. Then why? You may ask. Well you see, my fiance was brutally murdered on our wedding day, a quite gory sight. It was a very terrifying and heartbreaking moment especially if you’d want to take into consideration that I was the one who killed the cheating bastard. Like I fucking planned and executed his freaking murder and I promise you, it was quite a thrilling tale. . . FLASHBACK: Third Person’s POV: Tristian and Ashlynn, two twenty somethings love birds who’s romantic relationship stemmed up the ‘modern way’–well, at least that’s how Ashlynn’s mother tends to describe the couple’s technical meet cute.They had met online, by thankfully swiping right on Tinder (swoon!) after their profiles had been matched. Their first date was a bit of a disaster though- it started pouring heavily while they were
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02. Till Death Do Us Part
Ashlynn's being stood there frozen at the threshold, almost as still as a lifeless log of wood and utterly dazed with confusion, her jaw dropped and her eyes widened. The overwhelming and anguishing wave of gnawing realization hit her like a Tsunami ravaging a small village, it almost seemed like time itself had frozen. The only two problems here apart from the obvious fact that the two-faced, bloody bastard of a fiancè had been two timing two sisters, sticking up his penis is two biologically related vaginas, was that who the hell screams like that getting banged? No one does! Sex is not that good that she had to cause a sonic boom by breaking the sound barriers with her high pitched howler monkey squeals. The sight churned Ashlynn's stomach. She just couldn't bare to watch them anymore. "Tristan! Aaralynn! How could you?"Her abrupt presence and the vehement screech in which her words poured out ended it all. It was over. Woah, sex of a lifetime.
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03. Pleasured Profanities
Ashlynn's POV: TRISTAN'S funeral was quite pathetic to say the least. Well, that's what everyone who had attended it said. I for one, was forbidden by my dear mother to attend. But I would've preferred they had given the late love of my life a very befitting burial as he was quite a handsome gentleman, right until his very end. It's no surprise that his funeral was crapstatic and beggarly. His family were penniless nobodies and couldn't even as much as afford to launch a proper murder case investigation— thankfully. My mother who would've helped, had blatantly refused to have anything to do with "Those wretched dipstick Hollands" after she had found out from Tristan's drunken mother that they were only marrying into our family because we were stinking rich, not because he loved me. Poor shame. Well, leave it to Mrs. Holland— a spewing drunk, to get intoxicated before her son's supposed wedding and blurt out her family's secret to wealth. So technic
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04. A Tiny Little Kiss
Ashlynn’s POV:OKAY, I'll come clean.The truth was that despite how much the curious cat in me had continually pricked me into going back to the strip club three days later to meet him, I just couldn't. There, I said it! Well I couldn't, partly because I was scared as fuck! Like why the hell would he "marry" me and put a god-damned, expensive as fuck diamond ring over my finger while I was asleep? Creepy right? What if this was a part of his scheme and he was some undercover cop and he just wanted to lure me there so he could slot a pair of handcuffs over my wrists and arrest me? Or, what if he was some skilled, handsome as hell serial killer sent to assassinate me and give me a taste of my own medicine. And worst case scenario... Was that he was disguised as a hot human but he was actually a high-ranking alien, the godfather of a ruthless alien mob from fucking Uranus and then when I get to the club, he would beam me up with his UFO then take me back to his
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05. Enter: Mr. Arrogant.
“FIANCEE?” The older man which I had now learnt was his dad and I chorused in puzzledly surprise. Okay, what the hell was happening here? Handsome jet-black dude then nodded, chuckling as he held me tighter, dragging me more closer his rigid frame before he codedly nudged me slightly with his elbow. Hold on. Hold on. Wait, a damn minute! Was Mr. Handsome here trying to subtly ask me to play along with this ridiculous charade? Hell no. "Oh shit, my bad. I just ruined the surprise didn't I?" Handsome jet-black dude chuckled, palming his face. "I wanted to propose to her here at this very club and that's why I flew all the way to Vegas in the first place, dad. And that's why she's shocked I called her my fiancee because I haven't proposed yet." He explained, overly emphasizing a few of his words and that was a very obvious clue that he really wanted me to play along with this. Sorry pretty boy but hell no! Notwithstanding, I wasn't going to call him out for
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06. Aquamarine Eyes
Ashlynn's POV; "I beg your pardon!" I screamed over the phone. "What is wrong with you! Getting my number? Tracking down my location? You're just a fucking creep who doesn't know when to give up, aren't you?" "Actually I'm not a creep, Ashlynn. I just don't know how to take no for an answer." If I wasn't so fucking mad at him, I would've swooned over the way my name eloquently rolled off his tongue, as well as every other word he pronounced. He was well spoken and dreamingly articulated. "Listen here Julian, You are an obnoxious, terribly arrogant person and I would neve–" "I'm pulling up into the parking lot." He interrupted, announcing and I swung around immediately and spotted a black Phantom Rolls Royce rolling sleekly into the lot. My jaw slacked in amused shock as the vehicle steered closer to where I stood. It was undoubtedly him. He wasn't bluffing. And he was obviously loaded because my mother was a wealthy business woman yet, I don't thi
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07. Duck Meat
Ashlynn's POV: "I'd be having the Island Duck with mulberry mustard and the lady would be having the same." Julian placed his order and the very kind elderly, waitress with a brunette bob jotted it down with a smile. "Anything else?" The sweet lady asked. "I didn't say I wanted the Island Duck with mulberry mustard." I spat at Julian. Why would he suddenly assume I wanted that, and who the fuck eats duck meat? Isn't it like, illegal to kill ducks? "I'd like to place a different order." I turned to the lady, smiling and she nodded, ready to take down my new order. "No, you won't. You're having the Island Duck." Julian immediately retorted and the waitress's face crumpled in confusion. "I'm not eating a fucking duck!" "You will eat it, Ashlynn." "No, I won't. I'm vegetarian and I can't have meat." I lied. You should see me at 3am gnawing on the innocent flesh of deep-fried peppered turkey legs. I just desperately didn't want Julian to have h
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08. Sweet Mother Of Jesus.
Ashlynn's POV: It’s been four days. Four whole days. Ninety-six fucking hours. Five Thousand, Seven Hundred and Sixty Minutes. Three hundred and Fourty Five Thousand, Six Hundred seconds, do the math. And I had surprisingly not been contacted by Julian— much to my relief. I guess he finally gave up on me and found another chic to play charades with him. I was at Kyndall and Dave— her newly wedded husband’s private beach house, with Hailey and Brooke for a fifth wedding after party because according to Kyn, you can throw as many wedding parties as you wanted. It was beach themed, off course and we were all in our swimwear and bikinis. I was wearing a blue bikini. Hailey, Broke and I were laid on our tanning beds, tanning at the beachside while Kyndall and Dave were in the beach house. They said they wanted to cook lunch for everyone. But something told me that they were cooking up something else, because that’s all newly married couples ever did. Leave them
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09. The Business Meeting
Ashlynn's POV: Some person— who really thought they ate, said that it life gives you lemons, you make lemonade. Well, unfortunately for me, I currently had a lot on my plate and none of it were delicious lemons.Hence the reason why I'm thirty-three thousand feet above the ground, in Julian's private jet, flying to New York where he's based so we could get married. And hopefully, be away from the cops. Luckily for me, the sirens that I had heard outside of my house weren't for me, but were rather for my neighbor, the Accountant, who's house was said to have been loaded with hard drugs and narcotic. So I dodged that bullet successfully. Julian Kings being fucking loaded was an understatement, and if I knew the adequate adjectives to measure his fat wealth, I would've used them at this juncture. The size and interior of his private jet spelt rich and class in bold, highlighted letters. "A drink?" Julian's offer whisked me away from my thoughts and I looked at the tall
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10. Black Brewed Coffee
Julian's POV: Today had been one hell of day, and it wasn't even afternoon yet. My phones had been buzzing non-stop all day. I had received calls upon calls, a lot of congratulatory messages, exclusive interview requests and even some family friends decided to buy thoughtful wedding gifts and mail them to my office. I guess it wasn't such a good idea to have announced Ashlynn and I being together on fucking social media. But we had to make everything seem believable. It would be quite suspicious if everyone wakes up one morning and they hear that Julian Kings had suddenly married some girl. We had to give it a process of some sort. Hence the reason for the Instagram picture I had literally forced Ashlynn to pose romantically for, and a few other carefully planned scenarios that would follow after this. The doors to my office opened and my secretary, June, walked in with my savior in a cup—black brewed coffee, alongside some files in her hands. "Here is you
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